Men talking to Fish

“Mann – Fisch – Tisch”
(a painting by Michael Sowa)

Vintage black and white tile
A white tablecloth neatly draped over the dining table
A single open beer on the far side of one of the diners,
who is leaning across the table towards his companion,
his large fleshy lips parted as if to speak
He is desolate, no family, no friends,
but a fish, his mouth frozen in the last gasp
of death, is a fine companion for this lonely night
sitting at the table with the fine white cloth
a beer close at hand, his shoes resting on vintage
black and white tile.

Beginnings

One of those days

it was a housewife kind of day
a few snowflakes drifting listlessly
through grey skies
The kind of day where you clean
your computer desktop
visit the orthodontist and talk
about the injustice of Ken Lay dying
before going to prison.
Just for the heck of it, doubling the memory
in your laptop
since you can’t do the same for your brain
The kind of day that you mail Art’s T-shirts
and the antique Christmas ornaments you always
hated to your ex-husband
The kind of day when you don’t do anything
but the day fills up somehow with stuff
the dishes still undone, the rabbit’s litter box
uncleaned and you just don’t care
one bit.